


chose the rose garden

by helloearthlings



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, American Politics, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Modern Era, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 00:12:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11817141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: For the past four years, Arthur had been in DC furthering his political career while Merlin had been in New York furthering his comedy career. Clearly, Arthur had received better luck than he had.But Merlin had a passion for politics and was pretty disillusioned with New York, so when Arthur asked him to help with a grassroots campaign in Massachusetts of all places, of course Merlin said yes.It was hard to say no to Arthur.





	chose the rose garden

**Author's Note:**

> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> So basically, the story behind this is: I have wanted to write a political AU for fucking ever. You guys might not know this, but I fucking love politics. Politics is what I wanna do. And political satire the best creation in the world, and I have always always always wanted to write Merlin as a political satirist. 
> 
> This is....kind of like that. I'm just so thrilled that I finally got this written, and I'm especially thrilled that this is my 100th fic! I'm so pumped, but I have a couple more fics to write before I reach my goal for the summer, so I'd expect more soon. Maybe even another idea I've had for years and years but just now got the inspiration for...
> 
> Anyway, I got to write a fic about politics! That expresses my love for! That mocks Paul Ryan! Please enjoy and comment if you do!!

_Finally, none of this would be possible without the hard-working and tenacious people of the state of Massachusetts. I am proud to have your support not because it furthers my own goals, but because it means that you have deemed me worthy to serve you in the United States Senate. Given the chance, I hope to serve you with as much grace and compassion as you have granted me throughout my life._

“Where’s my coffee?”

Merlin pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose as he minimized the document he had been working on for the past hour, frowning slightly at the interruption. He didn’t like being jolted out of his work; he preferred to write and write and write until something was finished, with no breaks or distractions.

Arthur Pendragon, however, was always a distraction.

“Presumably in the Starbucks down the street,” Merlin informed Arthur with a polite smile, “just waiting for you to arrive to pick it up.”

Arthur, sitting on the edge of Merlin’s desk in a far too comfortable manner, beamed at him. “Well, yes. But I’m far too important to pick it up myself.”

“Such a show of ego doesn’t suit you,” Merlin lied through his teeth. Arthur had always had a superiority complex. And an inferiority complex about his superiority complex. And a superiority complex about his inferiority complex.

Arthur was a complex person.

“I think you’ll find it _does_ ,” Arthur raised a haughty eyebrow. “Most people find me charming.”

“Most people are idiots,” Merlin reminded him.

“Yes, but we want _most_ people to vote in November, so we’re going to refrain from calling them idiots, yes?” Arthur’s smug grin looked far too at home on his face.

Merlin still had one last wall of defense, however. “I’m not your personal assistant.”

“Yes, but I’m the Chief of Staff. You are staff. Hence…”

“I am here as a favor to you and therefore all Chief of Staff Superiorities are hereby reneged,” Merlin tapped his pencil on his desk, a smile growing on his face. Banter with Arthur was a far better way to get his mind moving than coffee had ever been.

Arthur pouted at him. Arthur was good at pouting, and rarely got to use that talent in his Chief of Staff role. But, as Merlin had pointed out to him, Merlin’s position on the staff was temporary and tied directly in with _helping Arthur_ , so Arthur didn’t feel bad about using his great and mighty pouting abilities.

Merlin relented with a sigh, setting his pen back on his desk. “I sent George to get it ten minutes ago.”

Arthur’s grin widened an impossible amount. “Half-calf –”

“Half-calf soy latte with a pump of caramel and an extra shot?” Even the words felt disgusting on Merlin’s tongue. “Yes, your revolting drink will be here shortly.”

“You drink coffee black,” Arthur pointed out, vaulting himself up from Merlin’s desk when two other staffers came through the doorway. Merlin had gotten there earlier today – specifically for the purpose of making sure Arthur would get his coffee, but he’d never admit that out loud – and therefore the offices were still mainly empty.

“With two sugars,” Merlin reminded him. Arthur made a face.

“Gwen drinks soy lattes,” Arthur said as if that settled the matter. “And we work for her, and therefore she’s always right.”

It was Merlin’s turn to make a face. Guinevere Grace, Massachusetts senatorial candidate, their boss, and all-around angel, was usually right, but not when it came to matters like this.

The clock on the wall ticked to eight o’clock, and Arthur took immediate notice, his eyebrows narrowing, his mouth becoming a firmly set line.

“Meet you at eleven for lunch,” Arthur’s hands went to the clipboard he’d let sit on Merlin’s desk for too long, the checklist, the things he needed to get done now, now, now. Arthur didn’t have time for much in his life besides that clipboard, but Merlin knew that _early morning banter with Merlin_ and _lunch with Merlin_ were on the list every day, so all remained well in his world.

 _Mind reader_ , that was what Arthur had called Merlin since the first time they met, in a gen ed polisci class their first year in university. Arthur had been trying to make a complicated point about the disenfranchisement of social security in the country and while most of the class had been at a loss, Merlin had filled in the gaps where Arthur’s knowledge was missing.

Arthur had grinned that impossibly wide grin and said _mind reader._

It had only continued from there, Merlin’s uncanny ability to know exactly what Arthur was thinking, what he was trying to say and how he wanted to say it. Merlin had always been good at reading people, and could do it with some other friends, too, but it had always been the strongest with Arthur.

Merlin had known what kind of father Uther had been without Arthur having to say a word about it. He could see the effect of his mother’s death without it having to be acknowledged. He understood Arthur’s complicated relationship with his sister. His way of masking insecurity with arrogance. The names of all of those insecurities he kept so well-hidden. The good he wanted to do. The people he wanted to help but didn’t always know how.

Arthur, always a mystery to the rest of the world, was an open book to him. Eight years after they first met, and Merlin could still read his mind.

It was what had gotten him this job, writing Gwen’s speeches. Arthur had worked in DC for a few years, and met Gwen when she was a grassroots lobbyist on the hill. When she’d become a grassroots political candidate in her home state, she’d wanted Arthur to come with her.

 And Arthur had wanted Merlin to come with him.

 _Mind reader,_ Gwen had told Merlin when they first met, introduced by Arthur, as she marveled at his ability to put her ideas into words. _You really work magic with this. I guess that’s why you’re called Merlin?_

She had sent Arthur a questioning look, and Merlin realized she thought it was Arthur’s nickname for him and not a curse his mother had given him at birth.

Still, working for Gwen was a bit like a dream. She had ideas that Merlin supported, a vision for the future that Merlin wanted to see, and was the smartest, funniest, most tenacious woman Merlin had ever met, and he’d met Hillary Clinton twice.

And it was also a bit of a dream to be around Arthur again. For the past four years, Arthur had been in DC furthering his political career while Merlin had been in New York furthering his comedy career. Clearly, Arthur had received better luck than he had.

But Merlin had a passion for politics and was pretty disillusioned with New York, so when Arthur asked him to help with a grassroots campaign in Massachusetts of all places, of course Merlin said yes.

It was hard to say no to Arthur. Especially when he pouted.

* * *

 

“Merlin! Tell me a joke!”

Merlin internally winced as he poured himself another cup of black coffee, two sugars, in the break room an hour later. His second cup was a reward for hammering out the rest of Gwen’s speech for the fundraiser, but he’d forgotten that Elena frequented the break room between nine and nine fifteen every morning.

Elena was a sweet girl, fresh out of college, and a math whiz. Which was great, since someone had to be – but it meant that she and Merlin had very little in common besides their penchant for tripping over thin air.

But ever since Arthur had let slip that Merlin was a comedian – well, a struggling comedian who turned to speechwriting because that was at least something he could do – Elena had insisted on hearing a joke every time they saw one another.

Merlin had tried to explain that knock-knock jokes weren’t really a _thing_ in professional comedy, but Elena was relentless.

“Um,” Merlin turned to her bright, shining smile, beaming at him from one of the chairs as she read the morning newspaper, presumably checking for mentions of Gwen. “I have this bit where I talk about Midwestern road signs. You from the Midwest?”

“No, I’m from Boston, born and raised,” Elena said happily, the smile never leaving her face.

“Well, in the Midwest, you get some weirdly religious signs on the side of the road,” Merlin explained, sipping his coffee. “And they come in three tiers – the first is the random, peeling ‘Jesus Loves You’ sign which, while you wonder why it’s there, is relatively harmless. I mean, it’s nothing too personal, and whoever put it up clearly believes he’s the creator of the universe, so it means that they think you deserve love. Which is sweet of them. Then there’s the ‘Jesus Died for Your Sins’ sign, which gets a little too pushy. And then there’s ‘If You Die Tonight, Are You Going to Heaven or Hell?’ which, in my opinion, seems like overkill, but it probably prevents some people from driving recklessly....”

Merlin paused. “Erm. It’s funnier when I do it onstage. And the signs are probably pretty popular down south, too, I just…”

“No, no,” Elena giggled, though it was probably pitying. Merlin hadn’t done comedy in a while, and it was starting to show. “I’ve never been to the Midwest. It was funny. Where are you from again?”

“Minnesota,” Merlin said. He didn’t have any qualms about saying it. It wasn’t like he was from Wyoming or anything too embarrassing. Minnesota had produced Al Franken, so it was cool and hip in the liberal circles he traversed.

“Is that where Arthur’s from, too?” Elena asked and Merlin snorted so hard that coffee nearly came out of his nose.

“Oh,” Merlin grabbed a napkin from the counter. “God, no. Arthur’s the epitome of a New Yorker. We went to Cornell together. His father’s the New York senator? Uther Pendragon?”

Elena blinked up at him. For as smart as Elena was with numbers, her political savvy was still lacking. She had plenty of time to become a junkie like the rest of them, though. “Oh. I guess that makes sense. I mean, it’s probably why he hides that he’s gay.”

 Merlin nearly choked again. “Um – what?”

“I just mean that if his father’s in politics, he wouldn’t want the scandal, and now that Arthur’s in politics, he’s wants to hide it…” Elena trailed off when she noticed the look on Merlin’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry, is he not gay? I thought it was obvious.”

“Arthur’s…” Merlin bit his lip. He couldn’t just flat-out deny it, because the truth of the matter was, he didn’t _know._ He could read Arthur cover to cover, but his sexuality never really seemed to be a factor in his life. He was the son of Uther Pendragon. He wanted to be a US Congressman someday. It didn’t really matter either way.

“Arthur has never put much stock in relationships,” Merlin decided to say. “Too much ambition for that, you know?”

“I get it,” Elena waved a hand at him. “Too bad for you, though, huh? I mean, having so much of his attention but never…”

Something twisted in Merlin’s gut. “Um. He’s my best friend, that’s all. That’s all it’s ever… I’ve gotta…get back to work, Ellie. I’ll see you later.”

Elena cheerfully said goodbye as Merlin headed toward the printer, nodding at a couple of other coworkers as he did so but not really seeing them before returning to his desk.

Part of the complexity of Arthur had always been the complexity of _Arthur-and-Merlin_ , together but not together, forever locked in a battle of wills of who could stay silent about their emotions for the longest period of time.

They were in a relationship without any of the benefits. They’d been attached at the hip all through college; Arthur’s girlfriend Mithian had been more of an arranged relationship by their fathers to appear at press events together and Merlin had broken things off with anyone before it got serious, serious enough to interfere with _Arthur-and-Merlin._

Even though they hadn’t lived in the same city since then, it seemed like every other weekend, Arthur came to the city to get drunk at the comedy club Merlin was performing in, or Merlin was in DC to help Arthur with a big project, or they were on a road trip together for their one piece of shared vacation time.

They were friends. They were best friends. But they’d also always been more, and neither of them had ever said a damn word about it.

Merlin didn’t like that someone else had noticed their oddities, their quirks, their complications. It was –

“Merlin, have you finished writing that speech yet?”

Merlin was broken from his reverie when Gwen smiled down at him, her hair perfectly curled and suit pressed, ready for the day ahead. She’d been making donor calls that morning, and the tiredness in her smile showed it, but Gwen was optimistic and persistent even in the darkest of times.

Merlin handed her the papers he’d just picked up from the printer. “I e-mailed you a copy, but I know you like to have a paper one, too.”

“Mind reader,” Gwen beamed down at him. “Has Arthur convinced you to come work with me in DC yet? I mean, assuming I get elected.”

“I have too much of a soul for politics,” Merlin informed her blithely and she snorted. That was the great thing about Gwen; she had no ego, and could take a joke. “As do you, for that matter. Arthur on the other hand…”

Gwen laughed, her voice rich and warm. “Don’t forget, I need you at the fundraiser tonight. Arthur’s bringing you a tux. Don’t forget.”

“You don’t need to say don’t forget twice,” Merlin grumbled. “Arthur’s been spreading false rumors about my memory’s capabilities.”

Gwen smiled. “I’m just making sure. Anyway, get ready to schmooze tonight. It’ll be necessary.”

“Yes, Madame Senator,” Merlin said and Gwen frowned at him as she backpedaled away.

“I need some more work out of you before you can call me that!” she called, retreating into her office, presumably to discuss the day’s agenda with Arthur.

Merlin wondered, not for the first time, if he and Arthur would be together, really together, if not for rooms like this. People like Gwen. Fathers like Uther. Ambitions like Arthur’s. Ambitions like Merlin’s, for that matter.

Merlin drank from his coffee cup and tried to push the questions out of his mind.

* * *

 

“Do not drink,” Arthur put a hand on Merlin’s elbow when they reached the free minibar.  “You’re a colossal lightweight and you need all of these people to think you’re a smart, savvy political analyst.”

“What’s your excuse?” Merlin eyed the champagne flute Arthur snagged from the bar.

“I can handle my drink,” Arthur informed him primly.

Merlin just brushed him off, and before nodding to his friend Gwaine, a friend from New York who he always called to see if he could bartend any big events. Gwaine grinned back at him and Arthur noticed.

“That’s your friend, right?” Arthur said as he led Merlin through the cavalcade of rich, Massachusetts political donors that they needed to impress. “The one…the one from the clubs?”

“The freelance bartender?” Merlin said. “Yeah, that’s him. Gwaine. You guys have met before.”

“I can’t believe he comes to Boston just as a favor to you,” Arthur grumbled, and Merlin glared at him.

“I’m doing him a favor, thank you very much,” Merlin pointed out. “Most places in New York won’t hire him – he’s gotten drunk on the job too many times.”

“Then why is he here?” Arthur’s face turned red. “You can’t just do friends favors like that, Merlin, this is an important event that could be traced back to Guinevere –”

“Arthur,” Merlin put a firm hand on his shoulder. “He’s been sober for a year now. His sister lives in Boston so he lives with her most of the time now. She keeps him on a tight leash. And he knows that these events are important to me, so they’re important to him, because _I’m_ important to him. He won’t do anything to embarrass you and ruin your future senatorial run or whatever it is you’re most paranoid about right now.”

Arthur was always considering his future campaigns, every second of every day. It kept him awake at night.

Arthur’s face relaxed, but he still regarded Gwaine and the rest of the bartending staff with suspicion in his eye. Merlin couldn’t fix that, though. Thankfully, donors wanted to engage them in conversation, which distracted Arthur for the most part.

“Arthur Pendragon,” one of the donors had elbowed their way through the crowd to pump Arthur’s hand with such ferocity that he nearly broke a finger. Merlin regarded the greasy-haired stranger with disdain. “Cenred King – I’ve worked for your father before.”

“Oh,” Arthur said lightly, though Merlin could see the turmoil behind his eyes. Uther and his son were not on excellent terms these days; Arthur was a liberal turncoat, after all. And anyone who worked with Uther would have been trained to see him similarly. “Recently?”

“I worked on his campaigns back when you were a teenager,” Cenred said with just a hint of patronization in his tone. “Very surprised you went for a career in politics, very surprised.”

“I’ve always been highly interested in politics,” Arthur said in his most mild-mannered tone. “My father, of course, sparked that…though it didn’t quite go in the direction he would have hoped.”

They both laughed very fake laughs. Merlin felt as if he should join in, but this also seemed like a private affair that he clearly had no part in, so he stayed quiet and observant.

“I just mean, with all of the potential scandals in your future,” Cenred continued, and both Arthur and Merlin frowned, Merlin’s eyes traveling uneasily toward Arthur. No one in the world was as scandal-free as Arthur; he hadn’t had a single drink until he turned twenty-one. He spent his nights the same way he spent his days; analyzing news and media patterns. He ate, breathed, and slept politics and always had.

“Other than my well-documented family drama, I can’t see what you’re speaking of,” Arthur said, but now there was a nervous edge to his voice, one only Merlin could pick up on.

“Oh, your father confided in me some…shall we say, worries that he had about you,” Cenred’s smile grew, and not in a positive way. “Your leftist ways were hardly his biggest concern. He was much more worried about shame you could bring upon your family if certain, ah, _sensibilities_ of yours came into the light of day. Your father’s an observant man, Arthur. Much more so than you give him credit for.”

Arthur paled slightly, and Merlin almost felt a little sick when Cenred’s gaze slid over to him. There was an insinuation there, and Merlin was pretty sure he knew what it was.

“Well, my father knows where he can find me,” Arthur gave Cenred a strained smile. “Were you hoping to donate to Ms. Grace’s campaign? I’m sure she would be thrilled to have your support.”

Merlin stared at Arthur through his stifled small talk with Cenred for the next five minutes before Cenred waved goodbye, a smirk still playing gently on his features.

“Arthur –” Merlin turned to Arthur, not knowing what he was going to say, but Arthur put a hand up, his eyes remaining steadfastly on Cenred.

“I have a few more people to speak with tonight, Merlin,” Arthur said, his voice strained, “and if you could please go and speak to someone else while I do so, it might be better for both of us.”

Merlin desperately wished he could do something else, but following Arthur’s request seemed like the smartest thing to do. Because Arthur was right – if Cenred was here on Uther’s behalf just to spread rumors about Arthur, Merlin’s presence wouldn’t do him any favors.

“Okay,” Merlin tried to pack an apology into the one word as he turned away.

The smart thing to do would be to go and talk to more donors, rile up support for Gwen, but Merlin found himself meandering over to Gwaine’s bar, waiting until he finished serving gin and tonics to old, rich white men.

“Hey, Merlin,” Gwaine wiped down the counter with a wet rag, his shaggy hair falling in his eyes. “Thought you couldn’t talk to me at these things.”

“It’s been a weird night,” Merlin shook his head. “Rum and coke, please. You mind if I indulge you in the cliché of confiding in the bartender?”

“It would bring me great pleasure,” Gwaine’s grin widened. “No offense, Merlin, but I can’t see why you gave up comedy for politics. This crowd is much less lively.”

“I didn’t give it up,” Merlin said. “I’m taking a break. Clearing my head. Helping a good woman win a Congress seat and doing my best friend a favor.”

“That’s your story,” Gwaine shrugged.

Merlin hesitated before asking  “Gwaine? Do you think that…a certain best friend of mine and I would be…dating? If not for…an elected office that they’ve chosen to pursue?”

Gwaine’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Merlin with something pitying. “Honestly? Yeah. Ar – I mean, he’ll never say anything. Because he’s an emotionally stunted walrus.”

Merlin snorted half-heartedly as Gwaine continued “But from what you’ve told me…I mean, there’s a reason he asked you to come here. And a reason why you said yes.”

“So what?” Merlin asked a bit helplessly. “We just continue on in this weird, codependent, not-a-relationship until…what? We give each other up? Or can I just never be in a real relationship with anyone else?”

“Guess that’s up to you,” Gwaine shrugged. “I mean, how much are you willing to sacrifice? How much is _he_ willing to sacrifice?”

“I’ve never asked,” Merlin said with a shake of his head. “This isn’t something we talk about.”

“Does he even know you…?” Gwaine trailed off uncertainly.

“What?”

“That a real relationship is something you want,” Gwaine said bluntly, his gaze never wavering. “I mean, you do…want it, right?”

“Excuse me, can I get a vodka tonic?” A woman interrupted an answer Merlin wasn’t sure the words of. Gwaine gave him a significant look before turning his attention back to his drink table.

Merlin took a few steps away to distance himself, and thought about trying to find other members of the campaign, just to be around someone familiar to break him out of this odd reverie, but he knew that the only thing that could make this better was talking to Arthur.

“Hey, Leon,” Merlin tapped Gwen’s communications director and a fine man to get drinks with on the shoulder as Leon finished up speaking with some real estate mogul who found Gwen charming. “Have you seen Arthur anywhere?”

“He ducked out a few minutes ago,” Leon said with a wave of his hand. “Said he thought he ate something dodgy for lunch. Hey, you guys eat together every day, right? Are you not feeling well either?”

“No,” Merlin said without thinking about it. “No, I’m really not. I think I’m going to head home, too. Tell Ms. Grace that I’ll see her at the benefit on Sunday night.”

Leon was uppity about the proper titles, so that won him enough brownie points to get out of the banquet hall without more questioning.

He definitely wasn’t going to go home, though. If he couldn’t catch Arthur trying to get an Uber outside, then he was going to Arthur’s apartment.

They’d ignored this for far too long.

* * *

 

Merlin rapped on Arthur’s door about six times before it finally opened.

Arthur, pale but unsurprised, in jogging pants and a crumpled Cornell sweatshirt blinked at him from the doorway, a small smile on his face.

“I thought you might show up,” Arthur sighed.

“Are you okay?” Merlin asked, resisting the urge to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, fine,” Arthur shrugged without any meaning in his words. “I suppose you’re going to come inside.”

“Damn right,” Merlin almost smiled as he crossed over the threshold into the apartment.

It looked barely lived-in; Arthur had only been in Boston for the past six months, but all of his time was either spent at the office, at campaign events, or at the gym. Merlin’s apartment looked a lot more furnished than this and he’d barely lived in it either.

“I’m sorry about Cenred,” Arthur started. “He knows things he shouldn’t –”

“Are you in love with me?”

Merlin didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until he saw Arthur’s head jerk toward his in shock, his eyes and mouth widening.

Oh, God, Merlin was so stupid, such an idiot, they’d had such a good thing going for so long without saying a goddamn word, he’d gotten this all wrong –

But Arthur’s face crumbled as he said “How’d you know?”

The air seemed to return to Merlin’s lungs.

“Apparently, it’s common knowledge to everyone but me,” Merlin meant the words to be self-deprecating but Arthur sucked a nervous breath in.

“Oh, God. That’s – that’s not good. It’s gonna spread. My father is already letting me know that he knows, I’m sure he’ll put in the paper. He’ll leak it somehow. Or maybe he’s just going to keep making snide comments until I start working for the conservative party. For him. God. I can’t –”

“Arthur,” Merlin did put a hand on his shoulder this time. “Everyone likes you. I mean, what’s not to like? This won’t…this won’t be a big thing unless you make it one. You can still get elected –”

 _Even though you’re gay_ , Merlin meant to say, but didn’t. He didn’t know if Arthur could hear that right now.

Arthur’s shoulder shook just slightly and Merlin’s grip became firmer. “I just…have worked so hard.”

Merlin was silent for a moment, knowing the hours upon hours that Arthur put into this life, this image of himself, could all be for nothing if Uther decided to make it so, and Arthur retaliated.

“Would you ever?” Merlin asked quietly. “Would you ever…be with me?”

Arthur stared at him, a bit of surprise still in his eyes as his tenseness melted away, just slightly, just enough. “You mean you –”

“I mean, I obviously love you, too,” Merlin said with a nervous laugh, as if the past eight years hadn’t been leading up to those words.

Arthur swallowed hard enough for Merlin to see his Adam’s apple bob. “I could do it for you. Not – not anyone else. But for you…”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” Merlin acknowledged, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of having this conversation after all these years.

“Well,” Merlin said when Arthur didn’t speak again. “You’ll be running as a Democrat. That’ll help. You wouldn’t want a seat as a Republican anyway.”

“Understatement of the century,” Arthur said with a slight eye-roll, a bit of a return to reality. Merlin smiled at him.

“And you’ll want a New York seat,” Merlin continued, and Arthur nodded.

“I’d love to take Uther’s,” Arthur said with a shake of his head. “But that fight would get too dirty. I’m sure that’s why Cenred is here now, riling me up, reminding me that Uther’s seat is for him alone.”

“You’re not old enough for a Senate run yet,” Merlin frowned.

“But I’m old enough for a House run,” Arthur reminded him, “even though I won’t do it yet and he knows it, he’s just reminding me who has the power here. But…but yeah. House or Senate in New York. I’m not particular. I mean, maybe I could do Massachusetts if I chose to stay here and build credibility. I could move out west to have a whole new political landscape.”

Merlin hummed, letting Arthur think out loud. It was how he did his best work.

“But…” Arthur looked up at him for the first time with a slight smile. “Comedy’s in New York. That’s where you live, and I know you want to go back once Gwen doesn’t need you anymore.”

Merlin smiled back, a little relief seeping through him. Arthur was thinking about him, considering him in his decision. He hadn’t dismissed any hope out of hand.

“New York’s still not a walk in the park,” Arthur said, biting his lip. “But…I’d be doing it anyway. It would be harder to do it while being openly gay…but easier. And better. Doing it with you.”

Something heavy settled on Merlin’s chest, something he didn’t have the words for, and he settled on saying “You’ve always been…more _authentic_ than most. More transparent in your motives. This might help with that image.”

Arthur shook his head with a smile. “God. Talking like we could be together…like it could be real, like it could last forever…Shit. I’ve never even had a boyfriend before. I don’t know what this is going to be like. How much I’m allowed to promise you.”

An idea struck Merlin, one he couldn’t let go of. “Okay, then…then I’ll be your boyfriend. Tonight, I’ll be your boyfriend, and tomorrow you can decide if you want that forever. Cause…cause it will be forever, won’t it?”

Merlin didn’t say it like a question, because it wasn’t. It was a realization that if Arthur said yes to him whether it be today or tomorrow, it wasn’t a yes for now. It wasn’t a yes for the next political season or for a congressional run.

It was a yes to everything, for as long as Arthur kept saying yes.

Arthur’s face was nervous, but happier than Merlin remembered seeing it in a long while. “Alright. T-tonight, you’re my boyfriend. Who knows? I might not like it.”

“I’ve gotten decent reviews in the past,” Merlin pointed out and Arthur made a face.

“Don’t make me jealous.”

“How about I make you dinner instead?” Merlin was almost proud of himself at how smooth that sounded, even though Arthur rolled his eyes.

“You’re a worse cook than I am,” Arthur said, and Merlin punched his arm.

“Then we’ll have a _bad_ dinner,” Merlin sniped at him. “We can make it together – reportedly, that’s something people in couples do.”

“I have spaghetti noodles,” Arthur said, mock-rubbing his arm and giving Merlin a dirty look. “Surely neither of us can screw that up.”

Merlin put boiling water on the stovetop as Arthur cut open a generic bag of pasta noodles and dumped them into the pot.

“Looks like you have red sauce,” Merlin scoured the fridge while Arthur stirred. “I mean, this’ll be a pretty mediocre dinner, but it’s dinner, right?”

Merlin set the sauce on the counter, letting the fridge door shut as he stared at Arthur. He hadn’t seen Arthur in a sweatshirt in ages; Arthur was too consumed with his image to ever exit the house in it. It suited him, and reminded Merlin of hanging out in his dorm room in college, trying and failing to do econ homework.

Hesitantly, Merlin wrapped an arm around Arthur’s waist. When Arthur stilled, Merlin put his other arm around him.

They stood like that for a moment before Arthur started laughing, just slightly, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. Merlin couldn’t help but laugh along with him, burying his nose in Arthur’s sweatshirt and breathing deeply, willing himself to remember this, just in case he never got to do it again.

“Wine?” Merlin asked when they finally managed to get the red sauce on the noodles without spilling any of it. Arthur, however, shook his head.

“I have some but…” He trailed off. “I don’t want any of this to be fuzzy later.”

Merlin could see the blush climbing up Arthur’s cheeks, and he felt it mimicked in his own. This was so foreign to them, this game of emotions, and when Arthur reached for Merlin’s hand across the table, Merlin took it and squeezed.

“You’re gonna break my heart in the morning,” Merlin couldn’t help but say as they sat on the couch, close enough that their legs brushed against one another.

“Or you’ll break mine,” Arthur said, staring down at his hands, and he really seemed to mean it.

As if Merlin could ever say no to him.

“C’mere,” Merlin said, hesitantly sliding his hand into Arthur’s lap, taking a hold of his hand. “Cuddling while you watch a movie is the best part of having a boyfriend.”

“Really?” Arthur looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. “The _best_ part?”

“Don’t be dirty,” Merlin shoved him lightly with his shoulder. “ _That’s_ not part of the evening’s itinerary. But I stand by my statement that this is still the best part.”

“Okay,” Arthur said, his grin a little helpless, as if he had no idea what he was doing. Merlin turned on the television, flipping it to the on-demand channels that he knew Arthur paid for, and clicked on the first movie he saw without checking the title.

Arthur took a moment to warm up to him, his face going paler than before as he moved closer, but after a few minutes of elbowing each other, Arthur’s head was finally comfortably pillowed in the crook of Merlin’s neck, one of Merlin’s hands playing lightly with the strings of Arthur’s hoodie.

“Hey, Merlin?” Arthur asked and Merlin hummed, eyes growing heavy, appreciating the feeling of Arthur’s hair against his chin.

Arthur leaned his head up, however, his hand moving to settle against Merlin’s cheek, and he wavered there, just for a moment, staring, before pressing his lips against Merlin’s.

Merlin didn’t even know how to respond, or even if he ever did.

But he must have, for when Arthur pulled away, he said “That was the best part.”

* * *

 

When Merlin woke up, he was still on the couch, and he was alone.

He panicked for half a second until he turned his head toward the kitchen to see Arthur next to the stove, staring at it intensely.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, his mouth dry. He stood, head aching, still disoriented with sleep, and he stumbled toward the kitchen.

Arthur looked up, and Merlin was surprised to see his eyes bright and intense, the firm line of his mouth set and determined. “Yes.”

“Wha –?”

“Can I please,” Arthur said, eyes shining, “keep being your boyfriend?”

Merlin smiled without realizing that he was. “I – yeah. Of course. Of course you can.”

“This is going to be _worth it_ ,” Arthur told him with all the intensity of a political pundit’s speech, and then continued pushing scrambled eggs across the stovetop. Merlin grinned. “I’ll have support from minority communities. Liberal pundits will say I’m brave. I’ll have Gwen’s endorsement. And no one will ever, _ever_ confuse me with my father. I can do this.”

“Just – just one thing,” Merlin even hated saying that, seeing Arthur’s face fall just slightly. “We’ve spent so much time talking…talking about you. How us getting together would affect your ambitions, and yours are definitely loftier, but – I have ambitions too. I want to be on TV someday, and that’s a tough industry. Especially when you’re gay. Not as tough as politics, but it’s still there.”

“Yeah, of course, I –” Arthur tried to interrupt but Merlin cut him off, knowing that if he didn’t say this now, he might never.

“And my ambitions are just as important as yours, even if they haven’t exactly come into fruition yet. Any sacrifices I make for my career are as important as yours. But I _will_ make those sacrifices, because…this is gonna come first for me. You and me. I just need to know that it’s gonna come first for you, too, that it’s not a compromise, or…”

“No, no,” Arthur’s face crumpled as he hurried around the countertop to put a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “You’re – I mean. You’re so funny. You really are. I can’t see why you’ll never break into comedy. And when you do, I wanna be there to support you. Just like you’ve always done for me. You…you matter so much to me, I want to see you succeed, too, this isn’t just gonna be about me, I promise, I know I’m self-centered, you’ve told me so enough times, but this isn’t –”

Merlin kissed him to stop him rambling.

“This is gonna be really good, okay?” Merlin said when they broke apart. “We both have our things. And hopefully you’ll get your congress seat and I’ll have a late night show where I can make fun of congress.”

Arthur snorted, but Merlin continued.

“And we can be as brilliant at those as we want, but this, you and me – this has to be our priority, or it’s never gonna work. And God, Arthur, I couldn’t take it if this doesn’t work.”

“It’s gonna work,” Arthur squeezed his shoulder tightly. “We’re gonna make it work. Aren’t we?”

His voice shook, just a little, and Merlin said “Yes.”

* * *

 

_Ten Years Later_

“ _And in other current events – me!_

_Yes, you heard that right, yours truly is in all of the gossip columns these days. Certain news sources have obtained pictures of myself and Representative Arthur Pendragon out for Chinese food in Brooklyn last weekend. Us Weekly reports ‘Representative Pendragon and popular political radio show host Merlin Emrys look very comfortable here together – should we expect an interview with Pendragon on You’re Too Smart for Politics this week?’_

_Now, I don’t know if the stellar organization of Us Weekly knows this, but Representative Arthur Pendragon, or as I like to call him, Arthur, is in fact my husband. Has been my husband for quite a few years now. I’m wondering how a basic Google search could not provide you with the information that Arthur’s husband and my husband are, in fact, each other._

_Google can show you most anything. It can show you plenty of pictures of me with his campaign, or pictures of our wedding, or probably pictures of us getting smashed in college…oops, sorry, House members don’t get smashed, unless they’re Paul Ryan dreaming up tax reform at a kegger. Remember Paul Ryan, guys? Probably not. Paul Ryan jokes are dated, but I promise that in their prime, they were a thing of glory._

_Anyway, I suppose the moral of the story is that straight people have had it right all along. Sometimes, all gay people_ do _actually know each other!”_

Arthur snorted as he turned off the audio on Merlin’s phone. “Oh my God, you’re serious?”

“Deadly,” Merlin couldn’t help but laugh as he heated up leftover stir fry in their New York apartment. “People are ridiculous. One magazine was trying to say that you were creating a scandal by cheating on your husband.”

“Fact checking has really gone by the wayside,” Arthur said, getting forks and spoons out of the drawer to set on the kitchen island. “Maybe I should guest on the show next week. It’ll be a nice change of pace.”

“My show’s too vulgar for your sensibilities,” Merlin patted Arthur patronizingly on the shoulder as Arthur glared. “House members aren’t allowed to hear the dirty language I use.”

Arthur made a childish face in his direction. It was odd that though they were nearing forty, nothing had seemed to change in their rhythms, the way they made each other laughed, the way they got things from each other. Arthur still pouted to get what he wanted. Merlin still pulled faces when they had to go to a fancy event.

It was something Merlin couldn’t imagine living without.

“About that,” Arthur said, and there was a nervous look in his eye. “I’m thinking about not running next year.”

“What?” Merlin asked, thinking he must have misheard.

“I don’t think I’ll run next year,” Arthur repeated much more firmly and Merlin worked hard to make sure his jaw didn’t drop.

“I’m sorry – are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, and his mouth became a firmly set line. “I am. I’ll have had four terms by then, and then I think I need to do something different. Something in New York.”

“New York?” Merlin blinked. “Arthur, I thought this was all you ever wanted.”

“It is,” Arthur said, and there was a hopeful smile on his face that Merlin couldn’t quite fathom out. “But I’m always traveling. Always away. It’s been so long since we weren’t at least a little long-distance. And I don’t want to stay in DC. I’ve done enough there. If I don’t run again, I can…write a book. Hang out with you more. And…and I don’t ever want to raise a kid long distance.”

Arthur stopped, biting his lip, and something heavy settled on Merlin’s heart.

“I – really?” A smile grew on Merlin’s face. “You really meant it?”

“Your job is much less stress than mine,” Arthur pointed out, going through things logically, because that’s what he did. “You’re not even on TV anymore, which takes out the shitty hours aspect of your job. Now you’re mostly self-employed and could spend a lot of time at home. With me. And…and maybe a toddler? I think we’re a little too old for a baby, but…”

“You’re going from the most stressful job in the world to…what?” Merlin thought he might cry. He hoped he didn’t. “Writing a book and taking care of a toddler?”

“A book about politics,” Arthur pointed out. “I can’t let that go entirely. But…But yeah. And Leon said that if I step down, he’ll run, so…so I can always help him out if I get bored. But I don’t think I’ll get bored.”

“I love you,” Merlin said, wondering why he hadn’t said that yet. “I’ll cut back my hours, have Mordred do more shows instead…”

“This is gonna be good,” Arthur told him, a shaky smile on his face. “Right?”

“Right,” Merlin couldn’t help but smile.


End file.
